Abstinance

Wet hair on her skin
Tangled ‘tween her fingertips
How long it has been

Cold. Cool. Damp. Her Veil
Leads her into temptation
Her Will seems so frail

Her pores awaken
Tactile Temptress of the Truth
Visibly Shaken

Steps from the shower
Saved by her towel, by Time
By the late hour

Dryness of her skin
Empty in bed and in heart
Seeking Sacred Sin

Seeking Salvation.
Desiring Solitude.
Choosing Neither One.

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